Fading
by Chikku-Chikku
Summary: "I really wish you could save me..." Izaya fades away to make room for another life. But Shizuo refuses to let the memories of the man he once loathed disappear. /Chapters inspired by songs
1. Fading

1. _Fading - Decyfer Down_

* * *

In the enclosed room, there is nothing but the light breathing of a soul fast asleep, locks of soft blond hair falling over closed eyes. It's a little too dark to see the man's expression – the only source of light is the meager sunshine seeping through the cracked window – but Izaya knows there is nothing but peaceful bliss on that usually enraged face.

He circles the small perimeter of the bed and approaches the slumbering figure; watches the wind lift strands of that familiar hair away from Shizuo's face and into his outstretched hand. For a split second, the feeling is almost surreal—the icy plunge of his heart as the golden locks slip right through his hands, as though nothing is touching it in the first place. For a split second, Izaya's eyes widen in surprise; then he brings those same digits back before his face. His brown-red irises grow dull and expressionless as they stare through the spaces between each finger. There are no fractures here, not even a bruise or indent on his flawless skin; but what bothers him is how he can see the backdrop of black through his hand.

_Fading_, he thinks.

He wonders if he will ever feel a punch, a vending machine thrown at his head, again.

Izaya leans down and wraps his arms around the curled up form of Shizuo Heiwajima, the man he loathes to the ends of the world. Feels nothing but the empty space of air, his hands slipping right through this beautiful body that has caused him more than enough pain in his entire lifetime. "Shizu-chan~" Izaya purrs into that hated ear, even knowing that Shizuo will hear not a word of it; nor remember, after this day, the chaotic mess that is their relationship. By tomorrow, everything will have changed.

"This is all I can take," Izaya murmurs, his throat dry, eyes growing a shade darker. He brushes lips against the side of Shizuo's cheek, caressing it in a light, gentle touch. There really is no need though; he feels nothing, his affections reaching nowhere.

"Somehow..." the informant chokes out, taking a step back from the conflicting emotions in his chest. "I really wish you could save me..."

Izaya brings his hands into the air, watching the dark shadows completely consume each digit; watches them slowly crawl up his arms and through his body. "Somehow," he smiles wryly, "I'm sure you wouldn't want to, anyway..."

_Right, Shizu-chan?_

The peace on Shizuo's face remains, registering nothing in the dim darkness of his room.

Izaya gives him one last glance, face unreadable, before turning around and leaving the apartment as quietly as he had arrived.

* * *

Tbc.

* * *

**A/N**: Shizuo and Izaya song drabble thing. No, it's not the 10 song theme challenge; this is just something I decided to take up when I find myself greatly inspired by a song. Just an outlet, I guess :'D I'll be continuing this later, whenever I can find more awesome songs to write about. Most are going to be really short... But I hope you guys enjoy them. ^0^ (Btw, I notice I do a lot of Izaya-centrics o-O I needa give Shizuo some more love D:!)


	2. Flowers for a Ghost

2._ Flowers for a Ghost - Thriving Ivory_

* * *

As he steps out into the deserted street, the cold air hits him instantly. Izaya wraps a shivering arm around his body, casting the starless night a bored and weary glance. He knows it's a bit too late to do much now and after his farewell to Shizuo, he's tired; realizes he needs to head home and await the next day, whatever it may bring. Still, even with that knowledge, Izaya can't stop his feet from propelling down an empty road, down the familiar streets and open expanses of Ikebukuro.

It's really silly, the informant must admit, but he knows this city like the back of his hand. Knows the best hiding place in the alleyways, perfect to spy on innocent suicide victims being led to their death; knows the best sushi restaurant in town, perfect for ordering his favorite ootoro and having conversations with an annoying, yet slightly endearing Russian man; knows the best escape route to run to, perfect for avoiding monstrous idiots with monstrous strength who can't keep their temper in check...

Izaya adds without thinking, _And I also know that, no matter how much I've grown on this city, the city and the inhabitants themselves could care less about me._

The informant breathes in the cool January wind and shoves his hands into his pocket. He touches something cold—his phone? It's silent, has been for awhile now; no calls or texts, nothing from either clients or Namie. Of course, Izaya smiles as he passes closed stores and apartment complexes, why would Namie or anyone bother with him, anyway? It's not as though Ikebukuro is obligated to worry about him, to acknowledge him in any form, whether it be to scorn and loathe him or to express concern for his wellbeing.

Izaya pauses in midstep, his eyes staring down at the pavement. There's not a single sound in the normally loud city, just the brief murmur of air and the clatter of trash flying across the sidewalk. The smile is replaced by a clench of his jaw. He feels a strange mixture of emptiness and anger in his chest, so blatant that it almost cripples his heart.

But it's gone in less than a second, and the smile returns with grace.

"Orihara Izaya, what a fool you've become~"

.

When he chances a glance at his phone, Izaya finds that he has just a few more... just a few more minutes before he has to go. By then, the informant has visited every place he can think of—Shinra and Celty's apartment, Russia Sushi, Ikebukuro's park, even Raijin (now Raira, he supposes) High. If there is a reason for it all, Izaya himself doesn't even know. Although he rarely finds himself filled with impulse, tonight seems to be the exception.

_Only tonight_, Izaya chuckles as he looks up at the sky again, once in his memories so bright and glimmering, but now only reflects the coldness and stiffness inside of him. He casts a keen gaze at the vacate streets behind him, still unnerved at the lack of people roaming around. Even though it's immensely late, there has to be at least _someone_, right?

"Or maybe they all know what will happen soon," Izaya considers out loud. _Maybe they're giving me this time to myself._

Ah, but how silly. The informant's smile pulls into a frown. How silly that the one time he absolutely wants his lovely humans surrounding him with their laughter and chatter; the one time he _needs _people around him, someone to share this one moment with...

"No one's here," he murmurs.

Before he realizes it, Izaya is already sprinting away from the darkened buildings, the darkened park, the darkened schools and apartments of Ikebukuro. His feet are thrilled at the challenge, relishing the freedom that has been denied to them for so long now.

The destination is firm in his mind, and even though Izaya sees nothing but blurs passing his eyes, his limbs lead him to the place in a matter of minutes. 'Ikebukuro Cemetery', the dusty sign reads.

He walks slowly into the gates, past rows of gray-colored headstones, only stopping at a specific grave in the very back. It looks old, although the flowers placed on the stone appear new. Izaya shakes his head at the sight of the odd assortment of magnolias and yellow poppies. Though he's not sure why, the flowers, freshly delivered on top of the gave, makes him look away.

"Who will bring _me _flowers when it's over?" the informant questions softly.

He bends down, pulling his flick blade out from its hiding place at the same time. For a second, the name on the headstone blurs before his eyes, but then he blinks and everything is steady again. Izaya runs the blade firmly against the soft flesh of his wrist; watches a thin sliver of blood pool down and drip onto the grave. His hand feels cold and he can see, more prominent than before, the way everything seems to go through him.

A thin wisp of smoke creeps out from the back of the grave; but Izaya could care less. He knows this is his atonement, maybe even payment, for all the things he has done. He just hopes that this person will be happy, whoever he or she is.

_–ASU–A_

_H–I–AJ––A_

The name is too blurred to make out, so the informant resigns, giving the grave a feeble pat instead. His blood is flowing from his crippled body faster than ever now, and a deep weariness forces him to the ground. "A life for a life," the man whispers to the person buried underneath piles of dirt—the person who will be awaking in just a moment, ready to lead a life more meaningful than his.

When the clock on his phone strikes 4:15, Orihara Izaya has already closed his eyes. The wisp of smoke fully encases his body, silencing the thoughts that once ran so haphazardly in his mind. His breath is low, merely seconds away from stopping, and when Izaya feels the ground under him move, he smiles just briefly.

_I think I'd like purple hyacinths and hydrangeas over my grave._

* * *

Tbc.

* * *

**A/N**: Changed up the summary because this fic suddenly got complicated. I had meant for it to be only a small drabble for specific songs, but now it can sorta/kinda be a story as well. I don't know how this is gonna work out, but I'll figure it out somehow :'D Hopefully, I'll get Shizuo into the next chapter. Also, I know it's a bit confusing now, but if I ever continue, it'll make more sense ^-^

P.S. I really wanted to include the line "I said, I'm only human" in here, but gahhh I couldn't fit it in somehow ;~;


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